Humidor of human filth
By Zac Dunn
Published Issue 101, May 2022
You always made me think
I was hanging out with Christian Hosoi.
The stoke was very real.
You went higher, harder, talked louder, insisted more vehemently, exclaimed truths with a voice that was horse for yelling the day before, belting the gospel you talked, walked, embodied and repped with full measure end to end.
The cryptic death defying words adorned on the periphery of NYC.
KNOW GODS JUST WORK
The meaning being the form
The working being the message
The audience mouth wide open
Awaiting the sacrament of intent
Love is the law
Love under will
Your heart was like a bubbling volcano crater
Rumbling and spewing forth
Pyroclastic force that meted barriers so apparent no one ever saw them there.
NO FEAR RAMBO
You faced death and climb ladders to places Only eagles dare to stare face to face with
The specter of annihilation
As I sat on the strange red chair
You explained the ritual
And revealed the totem
The path required one to master their heart and overcome their fear.
To prepare and plan and execute with intent and passion
You often asked what I would do
If I was ever face to face with a REAL savage
To which I replied
I was in that very moment gazing
One square in the maw …
The work would take form and you trusted
Me to curate and sequence it
This literal geyser of work that always
Pointed to something we all almost
Understood but could
never touch or hold on to
No one was more perilously driven to push something completely new that wasn’t just a piece of art on a canvas or wall but something living animate. The spirit world you shared hinted at something deep in the abyss that you paid the price to see yet extrapolated scene to be cast
into the light …
It was and is a sacrament
An unfathomably perilous endeavor that would cement the standard you set forth
ANGELS SCREAMS ECHOS A NEW WORLDS
We touch the void
Eyes slammed shut
Wishing you were still here
But the work
and the word
The Vision and voice
The Dogma and ritual
The other side of thing we all fear doing most but must dive head first forward as you did calls now as the sun will crash into darkness for eternity
You are the SHINING
The walls bleed truth
And the demons circle once more to
Dance and dream and love and paint.
You came here to do something
You did it.
You reminded a city that all too soon to forget that anyone can toss up a word, character or hand style, But a true master has a message to share that requires discipline, vision, character and raw power …
We March on in your name Lance
We cannot forget what you did
It’s all over the walls still screaming life.
You made a mark
That would have made Jean-Michel smile.
LANCE DE LOS REYES 1977-2021
Modern American artist, graffiti legend, poet, father, husband, brother